I'll Lead You and You'll Keep Me Going
by LadyPaige
Summary: AU: Slade goes with Oliver to save Yao Fei, in failing, the two head back and make it in time for the plane. Where they find themselves stuck in China, on the run.


**Very late birthday gift for mz_valkyrie.**

* * *

><p>Slade stood straight, looking totally unaffected by the bullet in his arm as he met with the pilot. Telling him that Fyers had ordered them to accompany the plane back to China, to personally report to the Englishman's boss. Slade spoke so calmly and with such confidence that Oliver almost believed the Aussie, himself.<p>

Oliver owned so much to the man. He had fed him, saved him from a landmine and armed soldiers, he had even come with him to save Yao Fei, killing Billy when Oliver got caught. Now the mountain of a man was badly wounded, bleeding and still protecting his arse.

However, the look in Slade's eyes when Oliver had defended them against a guard with a gun, said that he had impressed him. Barely but still.

The plane was made for cargo, giving it a large belly with seats along its side, red straps to hold the passengers in place. The back of the plain opened up so that the supplies could be removed. Afterwards, Slade and Olive stepped inside so they could get a ride off the Island, Slade holding onto the younger man for support.

This was how Oliver found himself in a large metal plane, to his left was a long bag with Slade's twin stainless steel ronin katana in their sheath, along with a few hand guns, knifes and an automatic rifle Ollie had picked while escaping Fyers. Slade sat a seat away, resting his head against the frame which jumped and jiggled far more than any commercial plane should, wreaking any chance he could get to fall asleep. The two of them had taken off their balaclavas, even if it was quite cold, the room almost pitch black in the low blinking lighting.

Slade sighed, leaning forward and resting his chin on his hand, his elbow on his knee.

"Thank you," Oliver suddenly said, "For coming with me."

"It's fine, kid," Slade mumbled.

Oliver looked down to his black leather gloved hands, the pair he had taken from the dead man. "I can't believe he didn't come with us."

"Yao Fei did not seem like he would do something like that. They must have something on him," Slade said, his low coarse tone sounding even more husky. "We'll save him."

Oliver blinked. "We?"

"ASIS and I."

"Hey! I want to help. I just don't know how- but I want to."

"You could do what you do best. Take cover and let me handle it," Slade looked over to Ollie. "You really want to go back there?"

"Yes," Oliver said without a thought. "Of course."

Slade cocked a brow. "Now, I know you have a sense of danger. So, you really are that stupid."

"Thanks..."

Slade smirked. "Somehow when you tell your family that you're alive, I don't think they would take to the idea of you leaving again for God only knows how long."

Oliver frowned. The older man was right. "Then I won't tell them yet."

Slade looked back to the blonde.

"You're right. And I need to help Yao Fei, I owe him my life."

Slade continued to smirk. "Alright," he said with a disbelieving look. "But you follow my lead, so if I tell you that you're not coming back with me, you don't go. You're not trained."

"Will you train me?"

Slade shrugged, flinching as he pulled at his wound. "Might as well," he mumbled. He leant his head back against the metal wall.

"We're going to be here for a few hours. You should get some sleep."

"Easier said than done," Slade grumbled. The pain and Oliver's constant need to talk was starting to get to him.

"Rest your head on my lap."

Slade gave him a funny look, which the man could not really see but he could certainly imagine it.

"It's either that, do what you're doing or the floor," Oliver shifted on the wooden seat which was making his bum sore. This was also an option for Slade, but if his arse was uncomfortable, Oliver did not hold high hopes for Slade's skull.

Slade sighed, before unbuckling his belts so he could move around. "Thanks," he moved on to his side slowly, resting his head on the blonde's thighs.

"It's fine."

Oliver looked down to the man. He had done well by suggesting something for the Aussie's comfort, but he did not know what to say after that. The man had his head in his lap, two sets of belts locked to help hold him in place in case of turbulences, and Oliver had placed his hand on Slade's bicep to support him.

Ollie put his head back and allowed himself to relax, knowing he could not fall asleep and would not for their own safety. It was the first time that Oliver was doing something to protect Slade, a man who even in his injured state could fight and kill anyone who threatened them.

Oliver was lost in thought for a few minuets, thinking about what he was suppose to say to his mother and sister. About his father's death, Fyers and his men, and his return to the Island. All the hunger, pain and scars. He decided to put it all off for now, till the time he had to make that call.

The blonde glanced down to find that Slade was sound asleep, his breathing slow, long black eyelashes flickering. Slade had always gone to sleep after Oliver and woke up before him, so he had yet to see how much of a light sleeper the man was but Oliver did not want to take any risks. He pressed down on Slade's bicep but the man did not so much as twitch. Oliver admired the Australian, for the first time in the week Oliver had known him. The man looked peaceful.

Oliver smiled. Slade deserved to sleep.

* * *

><p>The plane landed with relative ease, Slade awoke as the pilot warned them over the radio that they were about to land. They had done it, they were off the Island. Now, all they had to do was leave the plane and they were home free.<p>

Slade and Oliver had their faces covered, Oliver carrying the bag, strap over his shoulder. One of the crew came down to say that they were just opening the back.

Slade watched how the man stayed behind them and how he had this look in his eye. Slade had been an ASIS agent for over twenty years, he had worked in the field long enough to know what it looked like when someone was hiding something. They had been caught.

"You set?" Slade asked Oliver.

Ollie looked at him in confusion.

"Just do what you do best," Slade said. He held his hand out.

Oliver's eyes went wide. He gulped down the fear and reached for the bag, when Slade did not protest, he handed it to the him.

"You make a good pack mule," Slade commented, before he turned and threw the bag to the guard, who caught it, allowing it to drop from his hands to grab the gun from his belt. Slade ran forward and punched the man in the gut, then slid behind him, wrapping an arm across his neck. He was going to break it when he saw Oliver standing there, watching him.

His blue eyes were shining with fear and yet they were darkened. He was becoming a custom to death and he did not want to. Slade did not know which one of those reasons stopped him but he did. He choked the man, within a few seconds he was out cold but very much still alive. Slade let the man to fall to the floor.

"My guess is that they will be waiting for us when we get out. I'll need you to provide some cover fire. There was only one guard, assuming the pilot isn't a merc."

Oliver nodded, he jerked back when Slade offered him the gun but took it.

Slade grabbed his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "You'll be fine kid. Only way anyone is going to kill you is if they kill me first."

Oliver shrugged. "I'm not worried," his face said it was water off a duck's back. His eyes said he was scared but had no other choice.

* * *

><p>There was only the one guard so Slade shot him in the knee, knocking him out with the butt of his gun. The two of them then took off. The landing strip looked to be in the middle of no where to keep the operation secret. The two men set off into the thick forest, it was a rather unwanted reminder of the forests on the island. It took many hours of traveling, with multiple pit stops as Oliver was not used to walking so much and Slade was wounded.<p>

They arrived at what Slade believed to be an old shaolin temple. It was made of dark red and grey stone, the window covers and doors had completely rotted away and the roof -which lowered down and pointed up at the ends and surprisingly was still covered in half circles of slate, just like the films that Oliver had seen- was over took by crawling plants, that also clung to the walls. It was like the plane but less exposed and hopefully warmer at night.

"Alright," Slade sat down at the top of the stone stairs leading to the building, having just checked to make sure the temple was all clear. "We'll need to get water," he pointed up to the dark clouds. "Which is looking pretty promising. We can use the water bottles I nicked from the pilot. We'll also need food but first, you need to get this damn thing out of me."

Oliver looked over to Slade from where he stood at the door way, spotting the bullet wound as the Aussie removed his shirt with a hiss. "Oh. That."

"Yeah. That," Slade snorted.

Oliver had not seen Slade without his grey shirt before. Somehow, wearing only a black vest, the man looked even more buff. His broad shoulders and muscular back, his arms were thicker than Oliver's calves. The guy was a freakin' body builder. Most of the time, Oliver felt like a fluffy Pomeranian, something small and fragile, being carried around by a wolf, something wild that could kill him if he got annoyed. Maybe a dingo, seemed more fitting.

"How exactly?"

"We'll start a fire, sterilise my knife with the heat and some water. Then you dig it out," Slade stated with his hand.

"Oh," Oliver slapped his hips. "Great. Yeah, I'll just do that. With a knife with animal and human blood all over it."

"I have a knife for shaving, you'll use that. I also have one for skinny and the rest are a free for all."

Oliver sighed. "I'll go gather some wood."

"Has to be dry."

"I know!" Oliver called over his shoulder as we walked away.

* * *

><p>One bullet removed, an arm bandaged, having to swallow his own sick and then cracking a Cast Away joke, later, Oliver went out hunting with Slade. The Aussie had killed a rather large rabbit with one of his throwing knifes and Oliver skinned it, both to help out and because Slade would have to use his right arm, which would only aggravate the wound.<p>

After Slade finished his meal -rather slowly, the pain must have affected his appetite- he slumped forward, sighing at the heat of the fire. Oliver did not say anything, the man had his pride.

"We should stay here tomorrow too, set off after that."

"Where?" Oliver asked, holding his hands in the rain to clean them. The two had collected all the water they could and were drinking it like crazy to give them the best chance, even if it had them peeing for what felt like non-stop.

"Nearest town to get a map."

"What about a phone? For ASIS."

"Too risky. We don't know if Fyers' men are still looking for us but thanks to Wintergreen, they know all my contact numbers, so they can wire tap the calls. Saying over the phone where we are or waiting on the line long enough for them to track us, is something they can do too. However, I have another number we can use but it's at the house."

"What house?" Oliver wiped his hands down his shirt as he returned to his spot on the floor, next to Slade. He pulled on his gloves to warm his hands, before putting them under his armpits.

"Yao Fei's. I left my mobile there for safe keeping, it has some useful but not very important numbers on it. It is the only way we will be able to make direct contact. Plus, I don't think it's that far."

Oliver nodded, looking at Slade in concern.

"Don't worry. We'll go back for him."

"I'm not worried. I trust that you will."

Slade shook his head. "Knowing or in what should be your case, guessing the type of person I am, is very different from trusting. Save yourself the trouble and don't."

"How about; I trust you and you continue to be cynical?" Oliver suggested.

Slade snorted. "Fine, but thinking like that will get you killed."

"And being alone or trusting no one won't?"

Slade did not even glorify that with an answer. He moved down to lay along the fire.

"I never thought I would say this about the Island but I miss it," Oliver said, "We had shelter."

"Knew where to hunt and where to get water."

Oliver nodded. "Plus bedding and pillows," It was far too cold without them and the stone floor would leave them stiff and not very well rested, but outside, they would freeze in the rain.

Slade waved the blonde over.

"Hm?" Oliver knelt down at his side.

"My turn to be a pillow," He said, patting his chest.

"Very funny."

Slade grinned. "I'm serious. It'll be more comfortable and sharing body heat will make things easier."

"What happened to the not trusting people thing?"

"I could still kill you in my sleep."

Oliver's shoulders shook with a quick laugh. Maybe it was because he was making the decision but this was making him feel a little uncomfortable but Slade did raise some good points.

"Today is still your day," Ollie meant it as a joke and Slade probably saw it as one but the blonde really felt that saying that just implied far too much. Like every night they would be switching shifts of who slept on whom. It sounded like bad flirting and Oliver did not mean it like that, he did not even lower his tone or give a smile, so even if it was flirting, it was pretty poor. Slade was so going to laugh, wasn't he?

"Then I'll sleep on you tomorrow night," Slade said, holding open his injured arm.

Slade was not the kind of guy who offered kindness twice, he got inpatient quickly and angry at the drop of a hat. Had it been warmer, the floor softer, Oliver still might have thought about it as the man was offering and turning it down could be rude, he liked being on the man's good terms.

Oliver nodded. He moved down, his cheek to Slade's pec, a very firm yet soft pillow. He left a little space between their bodies but Slade's arm hugged his back, pulling Ollie closer, pushing down on his lower back with his hand, so they were pressed together, before he rested said hand on Oliver's side. Oliver stiffed at the fact that he was now spooning Slade's side but relaxed as the man under him sighed. He threw an arm over the Aussie, his firm belly muscles feeling rock hard.

Ollie was surprised to find that things were not as awkward as he thought it would have been. He moved his arm up so it lay across Slade's chest, hand on his strong shoulder, and hid his face in the crook of his own elbow, to keep the bright flames from his eyes.

"Goodnight," Oliver said, voice muffled by Slade's shirt.

"Night, kid."

* * *

><p>Oliver woke up that morning, first surprised that he had not awoke to Slade nudging him with his boot, then he wondered what his head was resting on. What was he holding?<p>

Flexing his hand, he felt a worn material under his long fingers. Slade's shirt. Ollie opened his eyes to see the tartan framing pattern of the Australian's keffiyeh, the tassels dragging along his dirty blonde hair. They were in the same position they had been last night, except Oliver was further on top, pretty much half on top of Slade, their legs tangled together and Slade had both his arms wrapped around Oliver.

Oliver shifted so he could see if Slade's eyes were open, he moved around more than he should have but Slade was not awake and he did not wake with all of Oliver's movements.

"Slade?"

Nothing.

The guy was recovering, he must have been tired. However, then Oliver noticed how bright it was. He looked over to the window. The sun was out and very much bright. They had slept in. It was far too bright for early morning in Autumn. Oliver tried to tell himself that maybe Slade was giving them a break, he had planed for them to stay another night here but... It was just so unlike him. Oliver imagined Slade was the kind of guy, whose eyes would shoot open if Oliver so much as twitched.

Here they were, bright sun light, fully rested, with a man on top of him, wiggling around, and he was still sleep? That was odd.

Without thinking, Oliver put his palm to Slade's forehead. It was hot, he was running a fever.

Slade's hand clamped over Oliver's. The man hummed in question, sounding groggy but very much aware. His eyes flew open.

"You're sick?"

Slade shook his head, moving his head from the blonde's hand. "I'm fine," he grumbled. He looked over to the missing windows, frowning at the midday light. "Let's get set and move on."

Oliver moved away, sitting on his knees. "I thought we were going to stay here another day."

"Best not," Slade said, pushing himself up.

Oliver said nothing.

* * *

><p>Oliver tried not to think about how off Slade looked in their first day of traveling. How, that night, Slade lay next to him, resting his head on Oliver's chest when he said that it was the man's turn. They travelled for the next six days, going back and forth for who lay on whom.<p>

Finally, they made it to the out skirts of a small city. Slade found them a run down shop, with an apartment above it. No one had lived there for a while, so they took it. They found a map, thankfully, Yao Fei's house was in the next town over.

Slowly but surely, Slade had looked more feverish over the days they had travelled. He was more compliant but irritable. He rubbed his neck a lot but Oliver was no masseur, and the Aussie seemed too crabby to accept help. Ollie always checked his forehead in the morning -Slade did not awake before him anymore- he was still running a temperature. He also got all confused by the map and a couple of days before they had got to the town he had become lethargic, moving sluggishly, like he was having to force himself.

Oliver had enough. He was not far off demanding what had made Slade sick, when he saw the bandage, around the Australian's arm. The one he always insisted on changing himself, even when that must have been difficult thing to do. Ollie asked if it was it was infected. It was. Badly.

As Slade took an afternoon nap to help build his energy, which he was losing far too quickly, Oliver snuck out.

He met a woman who described to him what the characters for antibiotics looked like. Tidying himself up, Oliver searched around like a tourist and found a chemist, he watched from afar and when he got a chance, as the owner was dealing with some sort of problem over the phone, Oliver causally walked into the back room, making out just in time, with a bottle of pills in his pocket, to look like a courteous customer looking at the shelves. He even went so far as to fane disappointment for the store being out of some sort of product before he took his leave. Hoping that it was not something weird; like Viagra or an intimate female wash.

Oliver got back to see that the man was still asleep, on an old bed roll he had found in a closet. He was getting worse.

Ollie went over to the basin, folding a crisp white hand towel, he had stolen, among with a few other items from a hotel. He held it under the tap till it was soaked through, then twisted the water out. So, the towel was just cold and damp. He stepped over to Slade, knelt down and placed the towel on his forehead. It was then that Slade's eyelashes fluttered apart, grabbing on to Oliver's arm with a tight grip but with no real malice, and relaxed, just holding on to Oliver.

"What are you-" he sighed at the pleasant cool as Oliver pushed down on the towel. "What time is it?"

"You were asleep for over two hours," Oliver reached into his pocket, taking out the bottle and shaking it, the pills rattling around. "I got you some antibiotics."

Slade raised a brow but did not bother asking how the blonde got hold the medicine. "How can you be sure it's the right thing?"

"I got a translation from a women and clarified the bottle with three others," Oliver explained. "You need to take two pills twice a day, on an empty stomach," he tapped out two onto his hand and put them in Slade's hand. "I'll get you some water."

"It's fine," Slade grumbled. He tipped his head back and dropped the pills down his throat.

Oliver was surprised about Slade's lack of hesitation. Then again, he had checked out the pills thoroughly.

"You should go back to sleep."

Slade shook his head and made himself sit up. "We can get to the house in a few days if we leave now."

"You'll kill yourself," Oliver crossed his arms, his eyebrows lowered.

"And you have a better idea?"

Oliver laughed, "Than killing yourself? Yes! We stay here till you're well enough."

Slade frowned. "No."

"Fine," Oliver dropped onto his butt, crossing his legs. "I'm not going. So, you go and I'll follow."

Slade had that 'I'm going to kill you if you don't cooperate, right now' look in his eyes, his dark brown irises appearing black. "I'll be long gone by then."

Oliver shrugged. "I'll be fine."

The Australian kept the annoyed expression for a while longer. Oliver was not going to back down.

Slade sighed, sounding more like a growl. As much as he hated to admit it, he needed the brat in his state. There was no way he would have got food, water, medical supplies, or even the hotel pillow he had been resting his head on, had it not been for the blonde's surprisingly good thieving skills. With his condition, he would need the kid.

"Fine," Slade grumbled, "Let's go get some food."

Oliver smiled, showing his teeth, trying to look innocent. "I went to another hotel."

Slade gave a blank expression but still seemed rather irritated. "What did you get?"

"Sandwiches..."

Slade chuckled.

Ollie kept an eye on the older man

"Christ, kid."

"What?"

Slade smiled. "You could make it without me," He meant it as a compliment. It was true after all, the kid really could make it on his own.

"I don't want to."

Slade blinked. He turned to Oliver. His blue eyes looked so determined, flashing green like the hood Yao Fei had worn.

"Stop thinking that I'm just waiting to stab you in the back. Believe it or not, we're partners in this. We're going to get to the house and we're going to get to the island again and we're going to save Yao Fei-"

Slade grabbed hold of Oliver's shoulder. "I know."

Oliver held his breath, he took back. He exhaled. "You may not trust me but I trust you."

Slade removed his hand. "Do me a favour kid. Grab the bowl from the kitchen and that bar of soap you stole, fill the bowl with water."

Oliver gave the man an odd look but left. He returned with the bowl, soap wrapped in paper, in his pocket. He arrived to see Slade returning to the bed roll, a knife in hand. He continued his way when the man waved him over, placing the bowl on the floor next to the Aussie.

"What are you doing?"

Slade held out the knife handle, blade between his fingers. Oliver eyed it for a few seconds before taking it. It was shorter than the rest but it still three inches long and sharp. It was a type of switchblade, it was about an inch wide with a wooden handle.

"Nothing says trust like a knife to the neck," Slade said, scratching his bearded cheek.

Oliver just looked at Slade, then the objects he had been asked to bring. The man wanted him to shave him? That sentence sounded so wrong... But Slade was right. It did show trust and thinking about it, Ollie was being given a chance. He was not sure why he wanted it but he did. Then again, what if he screwed up and cut the man?

Slade sat, one leg pulled to himself. "Well?"

Oliver paused but then nodded. He placed the knife on his lap and took the soap from his pocket, unwrapping it and dipping it into the water, rubbing his hands in a circular pattern to gather lather, before placing the soap back on the packaging.

He turned back to Slade, who just tilted his head back slightly. Ollie ran his fingers along Slade's cheeks, his skin was hot from the fever, his stubble prickling Ollie's hands. He used the tip of his fingers to cover the areas such as above the man's cupid's bow and up his sideburns, frowning in concentration as he did so. Covering the whole of his jaw and cheeks in lather.

Oliver pulled back, eyeing his work before dipping his hands. "I'll need a towel," he realised and left to get one for after they were done. When he came back, Slade was still sitting there. Oliver's mouth felt dry, he swallowed.

The young man sat down. He put the folded towel down next to the bowl and picked up the knife. He lifted it to Slade's face, pointing the sharpened end diagonally to the tanned skin and dragged the blade across the stubble, to the side of where the hair was pointing to reduce friction.

For the next few minutes, Oliver worked on Slade's face, pushing his chin with his fingers to where he wanted the man to face.

Slade watched the young billionaire, his eyes becoming half-lidded, squinting when Oliver cut at his jaw bone but otherwise, the blonde did well. Maybe, he had done this to himself when he was living with Yao Fei. He must have.

He could not help but admire the other's beauty. His eyes were so wide and full of a mixture of blues and greens, creating an interesting changing colour effect in different lights. His angular jaw was covered in blonde stubble and his skin was a perfect shade of cream. His hair gave him that innocent look that must have misled many from his attitude. His fingers were long and nimble. For someone who hesitated and stumbled around like bambi and in every given moment, cowered to him, so much so, that half the time, Slade forgot the man was taller than him. He was almost graceful in his movements.

Oliver was still a man, not a boy, as much as his personality said other wise. He was lean with well developing muscles over his chest and arms, from the life he had been dropped into. Nothing about him feminine but young, and attractive all the same. He also had a natural talent for fighting, moving quick and with ease like he was dancing.

Oliver lifted Slade's chin to expose his neck, dragging the blade up his delicate skin. He held his breath with each movement, letting it out as he washed the blade, which further filled the water with short and long wiry hairs, the surface covered in the excess soap suds.

Once finished, Oliver dipped his hands again, wiping away what remained of the soap from Slade's face. Slade's skin felt so smooth. His face clean-shaven by Oliver's hand. Ollie then took the towel, opening it up and holding it to Slade's jaw.

It was then that Oliver met his eyes for the first time since he started and he felt the awkwardness. He removed the towel, dropping it to the floor.

Slade lifted a hand to his face, rubbing his fingertips along his clear skin. "Thank you."

"It's fine..." Oliver shifted in discomfort before he moved to stand.

Slade cupped Oliver's cheek, causing the blonde to freeze.

The night they slept together for the second time, as Oliver snuggled up to Slade. He had realised that he felt comfort in sleeping with the man. Then the following morning, when he found that the Aussie was sick, he realised that he felt concern for him. As he shaved Slade's jaw, he shared an intimacy with the man, something he had not felt for a long time, even longer when he knew he was not hurting the person he should be caring for.

Though for all that he felt, Oliver had no idea when his crush started for Slade. It had been a long time since he held back being with a person but something about Slade made him almost shy. Truth be told, he had not crushed on anyone since he was sixteen. Slade had an aura of being dominate, strong and mysterious. And Oliver liked it, he felt protected but strived to be the older man's equal.

Slade smiled as looked into his eyes, not sure what was happening, what Slade was after. He watched as Oliver started to put the pieces together, going though a moment of panic, looking away sheepishly. His eyes flickering back after a second.

Slade's full light red lips descended upon Oliver's thin pink ones.

There was moment where nothing happened. Oliver was shocked, his breath caught in his throat. He had thought about this when Slade took hold of his cheek, but actually happening? He never would have believed it. Slade was a hard man to read and Oliver made no such moves or hints as he expected he would receive a fist in the face for his trouble.

Ollie watched Slade, his eyes were shut and he made no attempt to move. Just held the kiss, awaiting a sign of what Oliver thought.

He kissed back. Seconds later, Slade pulled away.

Slade grinned. He took the soap, dipping it into the water and gathering the lather and bubbles. With a bat of his eyelashes, his dark orbs returned to blue.

"Allow me?"

Oliver blinked, he gave a coy smile, then grinned, it was still timid but cocky. He closed his eyes with a nod. He jumped when Slade placed his large strong hands on his face, but relaxed in his warm hold.

* * *

><p>That night, after food and their new -technically old- training routine, Oliver slumped on to the wood floors, his body wrecked from another set of non stop working out, his wrists sore from hours of fumbling with knots pinning his hands behind his back, as Slade watched with a smirk, chatting with him and sharpening his blades. The Australian was weirdly entertained, he liked to see him struggle. From not saying a thing as Ollie tried to work out what wood to collect, how to keep his feet down as he did stomach crunches and how he held the weaponry. The worst was still the incident with the lighter, closely followed by all the times he had thrown him on to his back.<p>

"I don't know whether I should look forward to you getting better..."

Slade chuckled from where he leant against the window frame.

Oliver drew his brows in thought. Wondering if this had been revenge for calling Slade out on not being able to make in by himself for the next few days.

"It's better to go to bed active, makes you more active when you wake."

"Sure... Why not," Oliver grunted, pushing himself up. "Just don't sleep on top of me. I don't think I can take my own weight, let alone yours."

"We have a pillow."

Oliver paused. "Oh. Yeah, I forgot."

"That's alright," Slade said, pushing the paper window covers shut, eliminating the light to a low glow from the streetlights. He stopped when he stood at Oliver's side. "Come on kid."

Oliver crossed his arms with a smirk.

Slade grabbed his blonde locks and moved forward, moving slowly and holding onto the base of Ollie's long hair, so not to hurt the man but enough to pull the surprised young billionaire's head back.

"Hey!" Oliver slapped at the hand.

Slade let go, heading over to the bed roll.

Oliver followed. He imagined that had Slade disliked him -because apparently Slade showed affection by abusing him, like a school boy pulling a girl's pigtails- the Aussie would have dragged him off, using his hair like some sort of handle.

Once Oliver got to Slade, he looked over the man who sat on the padded fabric, only enough room for one.

"How do you sleep?"

"Um... On my front."

Slade moved back, giving Oliver space to lie. "That'll work."

Oliver sat down on the thin bed, his back to Slade as he untied his boots. "How do you like to sleep?"

"On my side."

Oliver stopped from where he was winding the laces further into the tough fabric, to make the boots looser. He not planning to take them off due to the cold but make things a little more liveable. "How is that comfortable?"

"It just is," Slade had always liked to lie on his side, his legs and arms stretched out. He was thankful that he fell asleep and woke after Oliver, as he had a tendency to point his pillow diagonally, his head on one end, while his arm curled around the rest of it. It was considered a rather 'girly' way to sleep but he found it comfortable.

"Well, at least we'll fit," Oliver shifted down onto his front. "Just."

Slade said nothing. He settled down on his side, one arm under his side of the thick and unbelievably comfy pillow, his other arm was thrown around Ollie's waist.

Oliver smiled, shifting closer to Slade's chest.

Slade moved his arm around further, hand against Oliver's chest, whereby the man flinched. Slade cocked a brow at the sudden movement but said nothing, just took the pressure off. He pressed a kiss to one of the points of Oliver's jaw, before settling his head back to the pillow. "G'night kid."

"Goodnight," Oliver placed his hand over Slade's, his eyelids falling shut.


End file.
